


Pin up

by rustedamulet



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes being aware that he's cute, Ficlet, Fluff, Happy Ending, Just two knuckleheads being cute, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers being cute, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustedamulet/pseuds/rustedamulet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's habit of toying with his bangs grows more excessively as time goes on. Bucky realizes it's because he's in dire need of a haircut. But with no money to spare, he decides to buy Steve a hair barrette - which just happens to be cute, pink and in shape of a bow. Bucky knows Steve will get a kick out of the gift, but what he doesn't know was how much he ends up <i>liking</i> it on his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pin up

Steve has an interesting array of habits. 

Habits which Bucky was attentive enough to notice - given he practically grew up beside him. The habits were never annoying; in fact, they were entertaining to watch. 

For instance, when Steve would sketch and run into a problem with his drawing - whether it be regarding proportions, or other issues artists often ran into - he would start muttering to himself, nibbling away at the ferrule of his pencil.

But more often than not, Steve would always play with his bangs. Bucky had chalked it up to being a nervous habit - something he noticed Steve doing a lot when they went on their frequent double dates. However, he had been doing it more and more in the familiarity of their home. It was to the point where it became excessive and unnecessary. He couldn't quite figure out if it was the jitters causing it, or something else.

* * *

It was another grueling day at the docks, but now that Bucky thought about it, when exactly wasn't it a pain in the ass? On certain days, the job bordered on slavery. But no matter how much he complained internally, there was never any bitterness or resentment towards Steve even in the slightest. The only reason why he worked so hard was so that he could keep his job and a steady flow of income for the both of them.

Well, more for Steve.

Medication to keep his asthma under control was a bit costly. But there was no way in hell Bucky would allow that to prevent him for getting the best of treatment for his best pal.

He couldn't handle the heartache of watching Steve struggle to breath, so he made sure to do what he could to keep this job at all costs. 

Bucky dragged his nearly lifeless legs up the stairs leading to his and Steve's apartment, hands digging into his pockets as he searched for his key. The doorknob gave a bit of a fight; damn thing was in need of getting changed, but he had already taken up the issue with their landlord. Not much he could do, and he certainly couldn't hassle him anymore considering how their landlord had let them pay rent late when Bucky was out of a job. 

He sighed heavily, pushing in the bulky door with a shove of his shoulder and soon he was inside. "Honey, I'm home!" He announced in a sing-song, carelessly dropping his coat on the ground. 

"Welcome home, Bucky! How was work?" Steve replied in a mutter. Bucky was more than certain he was working on another sketch from how concentrated he sounded. 

"Terrible. Boss flipped his wig when some of the shipments we got ended up bein' wrecked during its trip. Tried to blame us as if we would purposely do that." The day of work was frustrating, and having to deal with a man who had a bigger stick up his ass than most snobs in the upper part of Brooklyn was the icing on the cake. Bucky closed the space between him and Steve, calloused hand tussling his hair which rightfully earned him a groan. It might have bothered his friend, but it always humored him - almost in an annoying older brotherly way. 

"What chu' working on?" Bucky asked, eyes dropping to the sketchbook. He wasn't able to register what exactly Steve was working on, on account of the swift motion he made pulling it towards his chest. Steve always treated his drawings with the upmost protection, despite whether it was polished or still a diamond in the rough. "Awuh, c'mon Stevie! You haven't shown me any lately." Bucky feigned a childish whine as he plopped down beside him. 

Steve shook his head gently, still clutching onto his sketchbook. "It's a work in progress, and personal."

"'Personal?'" Now his interest was piqued. The two have practically been roommates since they were born. They've seen each other in every humanly state possible. At this point, either of them keeping something from the other seemed more off than keeping those details to themselves. "This some masterpiece you plan on givin' to a dame? 'Cuz if it's not, you should."

"Bucky," It was firm, tired sounding. This conversation about hooking Steve up with a woman, getting him into a relationship has made its rounds one too many time in their household. Constant attempts to set him up with women always left him alone and the third wheel. Steve started to chew on his bottom lip as he thought long and hard about how to continue his response.

That was another habit of his, Bucky noted. 

Steve closed the book without allowing Bucky to steal a gaze. "Not for a dame, if you must know. It's just a project I'm working on. Sorry Buck, but my lips are sealed." 

Figuring this conversation wouldn't head the way he was hoping, Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, kicking his feet up onto the wobbly and rugged coffee table. "Alright Stevie." He began to toy with the balance of the table, causing all the weight to lean onto the shorter leg before pushing it onto the others. It reminded him of the cheap, yet sturdy school desks he found himself being fidgety behind - back in the days.

"I guess we get what we pay for - the table being a dud and all." Steve said with a weary sigh. He got up from beside Bucky to head towards their small bookcase, mostly filled with art books for Steve and a few library books that were due soon. He grabbed a few, bending down to slid them beneath the leg of the table that didn't quite touch the ground like the others. "There! Oughta work for the mean time." He examined the table a bit more closely before pushing himself off the ground, running a hand through his shaggy bangs. 

Bucky wondered how long it'd been since they both went to the barber. "Looks like you're overdo for a hair cut."

Steve's hand stopped midway through his hair. "Oh, no big deal." 

"'M serious! You've been doin' that a lot more lately." Bucky paused. "It's been more than a few months now since we both got a trim, huh?"

"No, I'm fine. Plus, the barber is a little out of our price range. A haircut isn't somethin' I'm in desperate need of anyway. Use that money towards groceries, or even go out and get yourself a cut! I'm okay." 

That was so like Steve, always reminding him that he was okay and better off without the things in life that made a person feel good for treating themselves to a bit of luxury. Of course, he always found some way to urge Bucky to go out and spend the little extra money he'd have left after utility bills and food - as if he wasn't as important, if not more.

"Then let me cut it for you!" Bucky offered in a teasing tone.

Steve chuckled, brows shooting up to his hairline. "After the _spectacular_ job you did last time? Thanks, but no thanks." The two friends began laughing at the memories of Bucky's failed experience as a barber. Although it had been years now, the two being teens when Bucky wanted to give Steve a makeover - in the hopes of him finally attracting a dame - he took too much off his bangs, and they were also obviously crooked. 

"Alright, alright. So I'm not the best man for cuttin' hair. Sheesh, one time Steve!" He reminded, unable to hold back the big sappy grin that tugged at his lips. "Well, we gotta do somethin' about that hair."

"If you manage to find out what we can do without cutting it, I'll be more than happen to consider it as an option." 

The corner of Bucky's lip pulled into an almost subtle mischievous smirk. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

Today was payday for Bucky, which meant an array of things depending on his mood. A night out for a few drinks, buying himself a pack of smokes, spending a bit more cash on groceries so that Steve and him could pretend they had the finer things in life. 

He decided to go with the latter. 

A mix of it however. 

He got home a little after the time he usually finishes at the docks. When he entered, Steve was doodling away like usual with the familiar expression of irritation and determination written on his face. 

Bucky settled the various paper bags onto the kitchen counter, grinning ear to ear to himself at the money he saved thanks to coupons and manager specials at their local market. "Tonight, my friend, we feast like kings!" Digging through one of the bags, he pulled out raw vegetables in one hand, the other holding a package of ground beef inside. "Meatball stew tonight! That sound good?"

"Sounds awfully good, I admit." Steve answered with a bit of fondness. From what Bucky could only imagine, Steve was most likely thinking of the last time they had a nice warm meal, instead of their usual canned foods or stale leftovers. 

"Pay day always reminds me of why I stick it out with them sons of bitches down at the dock. Oh, before I forget - " 

Steve's eyes tore away from the large heaps of food Bucky was putting away to look at his friend. Bucky's tongue darted out to rest between his lips as his hands dug around his pockets. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for; it was a small item wrapped around in newspaper. "Here." He then tosses it towards Steve who catches with success. 

"What did you - "

"Just open it!" He chimed, bouncing energetically towards his friend. His eyes twinkled with a sort of mischief that tipped Steve that this was some sort of a gag gift. Slender fingers tore away at the paper, until he was confronted with a tiny hair barrette in the shape of a pink bow. It seemed to be made of a cheap plastic.

Bucky began to giggle, ruffling at Steve's hair as he watched his bangs fall in front of his face. "You said you'd keep an open mind about trying something that'll keep the hair out of your face. I figured I humor you."

"Ha ha, Bucky." He retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he toyed with the accessory, grinning at his friend's gift - if he could call it that. Before he could say or do anything else, Bucky snatched it back, fingers bending the part of the barrette that would secure hair in place. "Hold still now." There wasn't much Steve could do, or say because Bucky was already clipping it into place.

"I look like an idiot, don't I?" Steve asked sheepishly. 

Bucky's laughter from earlier had died when he took a good hard look at this pal. There was Steve Rogers, sitting upright with his sketchbook in hand, golden locks held up by a ridiculously colored hair pin. Yet, he didn't look silly. 

Bucky's brows furrowed as his mind tried to conjure up what word he was looking for to describe the way Steve looked. His cheeks were faintly tinged with a pink, no doubt embarrassed by how he could have looked to his best friend sporting the girlish clip, and was biting his bottom lip, nervously. 

"You look.." But again, Bucky couldn't quite say what he wanted to without feeling out of line.

Steve didn't allow much time after his unfinished sentence. He quickly yanked the pin out of his hair, wincing slightly at the few hairs pulled. "Alright, we both know I look silly." He pushed his open palm with the barrette in it towards Bucky, eyes asking for him to take it back. "How much did you spend on this anyway?"

"It was on sale." He murmured. "Keep it. It does do the job well, and y'know it." He pushed himself off the couch, returning back to put away the groceries. 

"Bucky - " 

"No, 'm serious. Hang onto it. It'll work until we get you to a barber." He was waiting for an argument, or for Steve to huff about how Bucky shouldn't have been spending money on something as frivolous as this. But he didn't. Instead, when he turned to see what caught Steve's tongue, he found him staring at the barrette as if it was an object from outer space. 

"Alright then." Steve said.

And that was the end of that.

Steve quickly began to help unload the rest of the bags, and helped Bucky prepared dinner that would last them a solid four days.

* * *

The next few days pass, and Bucky comes home to greet Steve who sits in the same position on their couch, hunched over his sketchbook with bangs falling on his face. 

He's opening a slightly cold beer from fridge when he sits down at the feet of his friend. "What happened to the pin?"

Steve momentarily stops outlining, shading - whatever he's doing to look up at Bucky. "The what?"

He deadpans. "Hair barrette, Steve. The one from earlier this week?"

"Oh." It's a simple response, and Steve's back to his drawing. "Uh, not sure. I think I misplaced it. Why?"

To Bucky, his explanation seemed too casual. "Figured if you weren't gonna use it, I could return it. It wasn't that much, but money's money."

Steve shrugs lazily, as if he was unconcerned with Bucky's question. "If I see it, I'll give it to you."

"Alright then." Bucky sips his beer in silence, listening to the sounds of graphite moving back and forth on paper. He can't quite wrap his mind around the fact that Steve doesn't have any clue where the hair barrette is. Considering how he manages to know where everything is, especially when Bucky's in a hurry and needs something that instant. It doesn't make a lick of sense, but he decides not to dwell on it too much. After all, Steve is human. He can forget things time to time.

* * *

It's moments like these that makes him wishes he had a watch. 

Another long shift of carrying cargo back and forth left Bucky stressed and in desperate need to defray his twisted nerves. Needless to say, it only seemed appropriate to hit the town up and enjoy himself with a few drinks. 

But then the hours rolled on, and soon Bucky found himself stumbling through the familiar streets he soberly takes when heading home, and he wonders just how late and how much time he managed to kill by dancing and downing nasty, cheap liquor. 

He figures he could afford a decent watch with a few weeks of saving up. He's also sure he won't care much for one once he finally gets home and knocks out. It's just wishful thinking, really. 

When Bucky finally enters his crappy and cramped apartment, the first thing he ends up unintentionally doing is tripping over his boots - now he know why Steve is always on his ass for having his shoes everywhere - and falls flat on the ground. But that isn't before he takes a few things down with him. He sits up, shaking his head roughly and gently closes the door behind him.

He isn't quite sure how closing the door with care detracts from the ruckus he made just a second ago, but with his mind clouded from booze, he doesn't even bother to make sense of it. 

He places the items back where they were before, lazily and sloppily of course. Once he finally finishes, he heads towards his bedroom, the same one him and Steve shares. It's no surprise he's sleeping when he enters because Bucky knows it's late. Yet he doesn't understand why he calls his name out anyway. 

"Stevie?" He mutters, sitting on the ground near the feet of his bed. When Bucky takes a closer look at his friend, he realizes that he was in the midst of working on something - probably that same something he's been so secretive over. He's still in the same clothes from earlier that morning, so he didn't mean to fall asleep. 

Bucky reaches out to ruffle Steve's hair, when he notices how it's sticking up oddly. He squints, unsure if the moonlight seeping through their thin curtains is impairing his vision, or the fact that he's swaying from being drunk. He notices that Steve's hair is pinned up in the cutest way that he distinctly remembers from days ago when he forced a hair barrette on him.

"You lyin' sunovabitch." He whispers, smiling like a fool when his eyes finally adjusts to the sight of him sleeping, with that pink bow he claimed to not know its whereabout.

He doesn't know why, but it warmed him up differently than how alcohol does knowing that Steve kept and actually made use of that stupid gift Bucky got for him. It was a relief to see for himself that Steve did in fact keep track of things, no matter how small or insignificant they appeared to everyone else.

"You really do got a heart of gold, huh Rogers?" He chuckled to himself, shaking his head slightly as his fingers goes to run through Steve's hair. The movement doesn't wake him, just stirs him in his sleep. He murmurs something that Bucky can't decipher.

Bucky pulls himself just an inch closer to Steve, hand still resting on his head and he presses a chaste kiss to his forehead. It doesn't last any longer than a few seconds, and when he finally pulls away, Bucky can't help the feeling of wanting to do it again.

He decides against it however, and painfully pulls himself away. He tosses himself onto his bed, saying goodnight to Steve well aware that he wouldn't hear. 

The next morning, Bucky wakes up with a killer headache and a hangover to match. Steve takes care of him, bringing him water, even making a delicious breakfast from the remaining grocery supplies from earlier that week. At this point, he isn't wearing the clip in anymore, but Bucky doesn't mind that.

He just grins stupidly to himself, and when Steve catches this and asks what got him in such a happy mood - despite the brutal pounding in his skull - Bucky just says "My lips are sealed."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic stemmed from two separate headcanons I had for their relationship. The first being that Steve would hoard literally _everything_ that Bucky has given him. No matter how small or silly it was to Bucky, to Steve it is valuable and worth something because his best friend thought of him and got it for him.
> 
> The second headcanon being that sometime during their lives of being roommates, Bucky noticed Steve's tendency to toy with his bangs. So on a whim, he gets him a clip to keep his hair out of his face. To his surprise, Steve actually wears it - like all the time around the house.
> 
> Also, let me say that all grammatical errors are my fault. I have no beta (boo), and English is difficult sometimes I s2g. 
> 
> You can catch me being emotionally comprised by these two knuckleheads, and crying over codependent brothers at rustedamulet.tumblr.com
> 
> Oh, and if you wanted to know what Steve was secretively drawing, it was Bucky. It's always Bucky.
> 
> Thanks for reading :-)


End file.
